


Forbidden Fruit

by SapphireBlueJiyuu



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Greek Mythology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 15:53:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2698664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireBlueJiyuu/pseuds/SapphireBlueJiyuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Centuries of stories and folklore have claimed to accurately depict Persephone’s disappearance from the world as that of a helpless victim thus the tales painted Hades out to be a manipulative and wretched monster. Though there is some merit to this, it is not the entire story. </p><p>In fact, the story is quite simple really: it is the tale of a god who fell in love with a women he could not have and the powerful brother who would go so far as to scheme and lie in order to help him out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forbidden Fruit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TinyBat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyBat/gifts).



> This is a Ward and Simmons as (modern) Hades and Persephone (respectively) AU. Originally posted on [Tumblr](http://sapphireglyphs.tumblr.com/post/104034325039/forbidden-fruit-hades-persephone-au).

Jemma stared in shock at the bouquet of daffodils that sat in the middle of dining room table. She shouldn’t be surprised since he bought flowers for her all the time. But this… 

_Narcissus…_

The door to the kitchen opened and shut followed by the sounds of claws clicking on the titled floor of the kitchen. Moments later, Cerberus came charging into the dining hall and barked happily at Jemma. She smiled and scratched behind the dog’s ear before reaching into a jar of treats. 

"Hello, boys. How was your run this morning?" 

"Fine if you like the comforting scent of sulfur and hopelessness." came the gruff reply from the archway of the kitchen. Standing in sweats, tennis shoes, and a dark grey t-shirt, Grant softly smirked at his wife. "Do you like the flowers?"

Jemma froze mid belly rub and looked up at the bouquet once more before quickly looking away. “Yes, they’re lovely. Thank you.”

Grant walked in towards her to stop mere inches from where she was crouched on the ground. He towered over her at his height but she had long gotten use to the dark and often times intimidating presence he exuded.

"I thought it would be nice, you know. Reminds me of the day we met-"

"If that’s your attempt at humor, I suggest not quitting your day job." she muttered as she rose gracefully to stand and brushed past him into their bedroom. 

Grant closed his eyes and sighed, “You’re upset.”

"Oh yeah? What gave that away?" Jemma threw back at him, picking up her book from the night stand and proceeded to walk back out of the room but was block as Grant stood steadfast as a physical barrier between her and the door.

"I saw the bouquet and I thought of you. I’m sorry if that’s a crime."

Instead of commenting, she simply walked away from him and towards the closet. She pulled out one of his many dark suits for him and laid it out on the bed. “Will you be getting home late tonight?”

"What would it matter. You won’t be here anyway." he muttered under his breath just as the gong was sounded. 

Jemma looked up and stated plainly, “Duty calls. You need to get going.”

Grant bit his tongue and tried to control his breathing through his nose. ”It’s fine, my lieutenants are there. They can take care of the place for a few minutes without me.” Uninterested in arguing the point, Jemma simply helped her husband change in silence. The air felt so heavy she was sure her knees would buckle under the weight of the tension that permeated the room.

Once he looked presentable, he grabbed his helm off the mantle on the wall next to the foot of the bed and followed Jemma out the door. They walked past the foyer and Jemma’s travel bags caught Grant’s eyes. 

He stopped walking abruptly and called after her, “Stay an extra week.”

Jemma paused. With her back still to him and she sighed deeply, “Grant-“

"Please, just one more week-"

"You know how my mother gets when I’m late-"

"Don’t…" He grabbed her arm and gently but firmly turned her to face him. He tried to lighten his tone when he continued, “I don’t want us to fight about this the week before you have to leave.”

Jemma rolled her eyes at him. “I’m leaving 20 mins, Grant.”

He feigned innocence (which was an odd look on his normally very serious face). “Really? I was so sure you were leaving in a week.”

Jemma narrowed her eyes. “We had a deal-“

"Damnit! I’m God of the Underworld! Do I not get a say in when my wife will leave me for 6 months out of the year to go frolicking in Zeus knows where?"

"Yes, but as ruler of the Underworld, I would expect you to practice a little more restrain!"

Grant glared down at her, his anger radiated off of him in plumes of thick grey smoke, but Jemma was not phased by his temper. She knows that he huffs and puffs yet would never hurt her, even in his rage.

Sure enough, moments later, his anger quelled and he turned away in shame. “Sorry. That was uncalled for.” 

Jemma’s eyes soften at her husband’s reproach of his own actions and lifted her hand to cup the side of his face. He immediately covered it with his own hand cradling and nuzzling it against his skin. She sighed tiredly, “Honestly Grant, do we have to do this every year? I know it’s not ideal but my mum-“

He opened his eyes to look deeply into her hazel eyes, eyes that remind him of golden sunlight. “I know. I’m sorry for being ass about this,” he brought her fingers to his lips and softly kissed them, whispering in defeat, “We had a deal.”

Jemma nodded solemnly, “Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?”

Grant snorted before he drew her to him, “I thought we established that I have wheat allergies.”

He swallowed her giggles as they bubbled their way to her lips and relished in the taste of her as the scent of wild flowers wafted around them.

Not wanting to ever let her go, Grant pulled back just enough to ask her, “Do you hate me?”

Jemma was quiet for a long while. He would ask her this every few millenniums and each time her answer had always been the same. "Only when you lie to me."

Grant nodded, then asked a follow-up question. “And the other times?”

She looked over at the daffodils on the table. Their beauty belied the history that grew from that fateful day she plucked a single flower in the meadow upon her father’s wishes. Nothing was the same after that day… all because she did not want to displease the God of the Sky.

"Sometimes…" she finally answered with a shrug. His face fell and she had to reach up to kiss him once more before she whispered against his lips, "but I still I love you despite it all. I wouldn’t keep coming back if I didn’t."

A rare smile graced his handsome features to replace his permanent scowl and it made him look so much younger. “I can live with that.” Pulling a small pouch from behind him, Grant smiled blithely as she open her palm to accept his parting gift. “Here. I just went and picked it from then garden.” 

Jemma was very aware as to what the pouch held and tried to put it away, “I’m not hungry right now.”

Grant’s eyes pleaded what he would not dare vocalize. Instead he coaxed her, masked his demand in sweet murmurs and pleas she could never deny. “You should try it. They’re really sweet. Come on,” he insisted as he poured a few pomegranate seeds into his hand and brought them up to her lips, “just one…”

Mesmerized by his tender words - or maybe the crazed look in his eyes - Jemma opened her mouth and bit into the red seed. The tart juice burst onto her tongue, staining her lips red. Grant’s eyes transfixed on the color as it slowly seeped across her lips. Unable to help himself he dove forward and capturing her lips with his once more. She groaned softly against his ravaging lips and teeth as she sank into his embrace and clung to him as her head began to cloud in the heat of his unbridled passion. His tongue tasted and teased against hers.

In all the years they had been together, ruling over the dead by his side, Jemma had never been strong enough to deny herself the pleasure of her husband’s affections. 

She doubts that will change no matter how long they were together. 

Pulling back, she rested her cheek against his chest and whispered to him, “Do you ever regret loving me?”

And for a moment, his silence frightened her. After all this time, she had never entertained the idea that he would ever tire of loving her and now that she was leaving again, she wondered if maybe he would not welcome her back in the fall.

He cupped her chin and tilted it up so that she could see the love he had for her - a love most would not think he was capable of - shine down from his deep brown eyes. “Only when when you leave.” He brushed his lips against her forehead and stood back so that she could gather her things before he opened the front door for her. “Have a safe flight.”

Jemma smiled weakly and said, “I will return.” before she walked past her husband into the brisk winter air. She forced herself not to stop, not to look back at him.   
  
"I will be waiting," Grant whispered, gently shutting the door behind him. He swore he could still catch the scent of spring she left in her wake. It hung in the air of the foyer as he placed on his helm and walked out the room.


End file.
